Score!

I’m in love. I found a thrift store here that has my number, or rather, has the kind of donating clientele I dream of.

I’m not really a clothes thrifter, although I’m usually on the lookout for inexpensive sheets or tablecloths I can repurpose into something. Usually in places I’ve lived before, the thrift stores didn’t have much. Mostly stuff similar to what I would be donating (ie, 90′s clothes or old toys).

This thrift store has things like this:

Heaven help me if I ever met a piece of vintage serveware I didn’t like. And just in time for 4th of July, too! Not that I actually know enough people here in town yet to have a bbq. I found the platter the first time I visited. Today the dutchkid and I went back to explore a bit further, and I felt like a kid in a candy store… vintage patterns! records! I even saw a a couple of molded plywood chairs. I managed to restrain myself today and only came home with a tablecloth and a darling apron for the dutchkid.

This kind of store is going to be the end of me. Or at the least the end of any remaining storage space in my house.

And then pigs flew.

In an interesting turn of events, my dh and I actually sat down last night and talked about adoption (!) And it wasn’t just ME talking about it, it was an actual conversation.

Ok, ok, let me back up because I don’t know that I’ve ever written about the subject here. Ever since our failed FET, I’ve started to feel more and more pulled toward adopting. However, my dh hasn’t felt the same way. I don’t want to get into too many details about why that is, but mostly it’s because an adopted child really caused some heartache in his family.

As time has passed, though, I think it’s sinking in that it is not likely that we will have another biological child. And it really gets to him to think about the dutchkid being an only child. It’s actually been something he mumbles to himself frequently around our house, “She needs a brother or a sister!” (It’s hard for me not to take offense when he says that, although I know very well he doesn’t intend to hurt my feelings).

We aren’t even anywhere near making a decision, or even starting the process. It will likely have to wait until after this next deployment. But the fact that he even talked about it? A huge step. Huge. Honestly I wasn’t sure this day would ever come, I’ve sort of been mentally planning out my future as the mom of one. How is it that one conversation suddenly changes the shape of your future?

Unpack update

Well, I can’t say we have had a bunch of exciting goings on this week. Although we are making headway on the unpacking boxes front, which is encouraging. The house is livable, although I’m not one of those hooah unpack-everything-in-three-days kind of Army wives.

Not so encouraging is the realization that we are missing a bunch of stuff. Since we have at least opened all of the boxes, I know that it is in fact missing. Nothing earth shattering, some kitchen stuff (the tupperware cannisters you gave me back in the day, Beth!) and toys, but it worries me. I’m afraid six months from now I’m going to be looking for XYZ and realize that it’s gone forever. Sigh.

The other goings on have been fixing things up, and now I remember what a time (and money) drain a house can be. The good part is that it’s feeling more like my house. And the crew has been enjoying the backyard immensely:

I’ve been more seriously trying to figure out schools for the dutchkid, which is sort of tangled up in my plans for the fall… and that’s a whole ‘nother can of worms that I’ll open another day (soon). Hope everybody has a great weekend!

Awash in boxes, and questions.

Our stuff got here today!

They started unloading at about 0745, which was kind of crazy. I’ve never had such an early bird truck driver. I was kind of worried when the first few boxes that came in looked like they had been sat on, or maybe driven over…but only a few things were broken or damaged, nothing irreplacable. The piano made it unscathed, so now it has successfully crossed the country three times. I should send Yamaha a letter.

The biggest thing I have to report for today is that after all these years, I finally tried having the movers unpack some boxes for me. That’s part of the deal with the moving companies, they will unpack you if you would like. I was warned about this as a new Army spouse: that they will unpack but usually it’s not a good idea because they will literally just unload the box and set things down on any flat surface available. As you might imagine it creates a gigantic mess to sort through. I never knew anybody who actually did that.

However, at the last duty station, one of my neighbors actually tried it and said it worked out well as far as kitchen stuff. So I thought I might give it a try. I hate unpacking the kitchen. The dish packs (boxes) they use are pretty big and full to the gills with breakable things all surrounded by 102 layers of paper. It takes me days just to get the kitchen done.

And my report? I think it was worth it. I only had them unpack the dish packs and boxes of pots and pans. It does create a mess, and if you are squeamish at all about the movers touching your dishes (which I am not, particularly) this is not the method for you. I was able to stand by and put stacks of some dishes where I wanted them, and now I have a good visual of everything that needs a home. Once I have stuff cleaned and put up, it will be done. And the movers took the paper and boxes that they unpacked.

I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks. So for any military spouse readers, I’m curious: do you have them unpack? And also, does it freak you out to have the movers touching all your stuff? do you wash everything?

We’re here!

Ahhh, at last we have an internet connection! I thought I’d post today, to say that we’re here and we’re alive.

The journey out west was uneventful, we took our time, only driving about 450 miles or so a day. We stayed at mostly motels because of our dogs, but we did stop one night at Scott AFB (near St. Louis) and I have to say that if you ever have the chance to stay in their TLF (temporary lodging facility), you should do it. In a stroke of brilliance, they use old housing as TLF, so we were able to stay in a fully furnished house, complete with a fenced area for the dogs. It rocked.

Our SUV pulling the U-haul didn’t have any issues, which was one of dh’s biggest worries. My biggest worry was entertaining the dutchkid for endless hours in the car, since I had her with me. She did great, we’re turning that kid into a serious traveler. The only lasting side effect is that now whenever we drive somewhere she wants to know what state we’re in: “Are we still in Colorado, Mama?”

So here we are, in our beautiful new house. While I am glad to be here, I am feeling slightly overwhelmed by the sheer amount of tasks that must be done to get our life restarted. This is compounded by the fact that I have very few tools to accomplish said tasks because none of our stuff is here yet. I’m not a fan of being in limbo, and that’s really where we’ve been stuck this week since our truck driver is taking every last day he’s allowed (and one extra) to get here.

In other ways it’s been a nice week. It has given me time to sit around and just be with my family. We have been able to do some sightseeing because we really have nothing else to do. We hit the zoo and did a little hiking. I guess I should look at this week as time to “acclimatize”, just like those crazy mountaineers do for weeks at base camp before they attempt Everest. The trouble with that is the longer I stare at the mountain of my to-do list, the bigger it looks.

Things I will miss…

The packers are here, doing their best to put everything I own in boxes. I’m ready to move, but today I’m reflecting about living here. This post has its good and bad points without a doubt, but I think lately I’ve harped more on what irritates me (ahem, bugle and cannon anyone?). So here are my top ten things of what I will dearly miss about good old Ft. Benning.

1. My tree (and all of the lovely shade trees here)
2. Being able to walk or ride a bike almost everywhere
3. Playing with the dutchkid at the stadium

4. The wood floors in my house
5. Spending hours at the playground, out my backdoor

6. The fantastic library in town
7. My piano teacher
8. Our rockin’ church
9. The Riverwalk

10. The sense of history, living in an old house at an old post

Overall, its been a good year. I should probably get back to supervising packing before I drown in the river of nostalgia.

PCS life lessons

Nothing like a good old PCS to raise the stress levels. We are in full move prep mode over here. I’m a big believer in not tearing your house apart a month before the move, it just interferes with my quality of life. But there’s also the realization that so much of the prep I’m running around doing could have been done weeks ago…if it weren’t for the fact that I was in denial about said move. So it’s a fine balance.

I have learned things in the past few days that by rights I should have known already… like the autocraft shop will recycle old motor oil and transmission fluid for you, or that there is a dry cleaner right down the street but they take 4 days to process anything. Yeah, that’s me. I want to dry clean things that have been waiting for months right now.

Today I encountered one of life’s PCS conundrums. We have one trash day left. In order to clear housing, my trash can has to be hosed out and clean. So after early next week I can’t put anything else in the trash can. And of course, because both dh and I were in denial and procrastinating to boot, we waited until now to seriously go through my basement. My trash can overfloweth. And the trash men are zealous about not picking up stuff that’s not in the can.

Adding to this is the fact that most of my neighbors are already gone, which means that my fridge has been the recipient of everybody’s condiments. I’m going to have a ton more stuff to throw away. Argh. And I’m feeling guilty because I won’t have time to recycle the empties. I’m going to be knocking on random strangers doors and asking to use their trash can.

You would think that by now (I think this is move 7? I’ve lost track) I would have it all figured out. Valuable time management lessons, courtesy of Uncle Sam.

The Best Last Day

We aren’t moving today, but it was the last day for one of the families we were closest to during our year here.

We had dinner together last night, and they slept at our house because we still have furniture. The kids played together all day, and my husband and I looked at each other and laughed at how lively it was with 4 kids… we never realized our house was “quiet”.

It was a good day. Eating breakfast together, fighting over the magic wands, watching movies, eating picnic lunch on the playground and of course…swinging together one last time.

Goodbye good friends, Godspeed… and we’ll meet again someday, I know it.

Rank and its privilege

*warning, rant ahead, I have to get it out of my system.  Just in case you think I always love Army life*

We came home today from a whirlwind road trip to see my mother-in-law. It was fine. I complained about going and then felt guilty because it went well and my poor MIL is lonely and obviously missed us. I am a rotten daughter-in-law. Moving on.

When we arrived back in the neighborhood, we were greeted with all sorts of talk… the latest scuttlebutt, updates on who is moving when, and disturbingly, one of my permanent party neighbors had some real news.

It turns out that because of BRAC (Base Realignment And Closure) there are two generals moving here soon that will need quarters. Our street is very close to the homes where the current CG and his deputy (another general) live. So housing has decided to move two families on our street out of their homes, remove the public playground in between them, and change the homes to befit their rank.  Mostly by giving them bigger private yards.

I shouldn’t care, really I shouldn’t. I’m leaving and it doesn’t affect me. But it really irks me that a) they moved both of these families in within the past 6-8 months and now they are forcing them to move again and b) that playground is the only one nearby for kids.

I don’t have a big neighborhood (it’s really only about 2 streets if you count the current generals).  We joke about how the rest of us live on the “ghetto side” of the street. We are mostly student officer families intermingled with a few permanent party officers.  But let me just tell you we have a lot of kids. We also have had a lot of trouble with people speeding down our back alley. We have tiny yards and a busy street in front. That playground is well used, every single day.

They are building all sorts of new housing and facilities elsewhere on this post, why on earth couldn’t they build new general’s quarters?  The type of house you receive on post is determined by rank, and I understand the reasons for that.  One of which is that your BAH (housing allowance) also varies by rank, so just like $1200 in rent will get you a different place than $600, that’s the idea with your Army house.   But why do they need to sacrifice something used by so many to give a general and his family (who usually don’t have small children in need of playing space) a huge yard?  Just to keep all the brass together?

I don’t get it.  Surely there must have been some sort of alternative.  And now because almost all of our street is turning over for PCS season, no one will take the time to object.  It will likely already be in progress by the time the next people come here, find out and try to say anything about it.  My neighbors have all mostly checked out and tell me that “It’s not your problem anymore.”  I know, it’s just a playground, but it’s a quality of life issue for all those families who will live here after me.   Although I’m not sure what I can do other than write a letter.  Pissing in the wind, I’m afraid.   Add this one to the list of things, “When I am in charge of the Army…”

Oh, but I wish I could be here the first morning they are awakened by the cannon.  Welcome to the ‘hood… sir.